snuff, fluff, and competition
by soggywaffles321
Summary: michael myers had never had a challenge, because well -he was michael myers! but when a certain female comes along he has some competition to face when it comes to bieng a bad ass killer, and oh, not only that -but there might be a bit more going on than competition ;)
1. the encounter

_**Hey guys! You missed me didn't you? Ha-ha my awful attempts I call jokes. Anyway, this is my first Halloween fic, it's gonna have a bit of fluff so if you don't like that piss off. Enjoy my smexy chalupas! **_

3:05 AM

I turned the page of my book, waiting for the bus to drop me off in Haddonfield Illinois. Each page filled me with delight, every star and galaxy explained and drawn so beautifully.

This is why I have no friends. And no future. And no life.

Or I guess it could be the fact that the only reason I'm visiting Haddonfield is to finish what I should have finished two years ago. My eyelids began to droop as the bus came to a stop in a well populated urban area, mid city maybe. I don't know, and I sure was too tired as fuck to care.

I stood up almost loosing my balance, but gripping the arm of a chair beside me for extra leverage. Then walking toward the front of the bus and hopping down the steps onto the bright lights of the city I once knew so well.

About to walk away the bus driver called out trying to seek my attention.

"ma'am, you forgot your I.D"

I turned around to see the red faced man handing me the plastic card, "thank you sir"

He smiled and looked down at the important piece of plastic, "you welcome Ms. Morgan"

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000 **

Michael looked down at the broken hand-cuffs that rested in front of his feet.

Why did he feel so guilty?

-oh yes. That's right, he was a psychopathic cereal killer that massacred his family.

They never truly loved him, and he despised them for that.

He wondered what it was like to actually have emotion, then shrugged and said "nah. Too much effort."

He walked into the backyard to chop some more wood for the nights fire place, considering that a demolished house had no furnace and a malfunctioning oven; that fireplace was all he had.

And of course he always traded goods with Leatherface, Jason, and Freddy. Some of his fire wood for Leatherface's meat and grain, or Jason's stolen goods, and especially Freddie's hand knitted sweaters.

He LOVED Freddie's cozy sweaters.

Then realizing he had some "errands" to finish tonight, he left the house, forgetting to lock the door.

He came back home a few hours later; his knife and clothes stained with blood. He placed the knife on the table on the kitchen counter; about to make his way to the living room where he could rest but then hearing an abrupt thud against the upstairs floor.

"GOD DAMMET CAN'T A MAN GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE!"

He grabbed the butcher knife once again and gave an irritated groan as he headed upstairs into the now demolished room that used to be his sister's. he knew there was someone or something there, it was too quiet for him to assume otherwise.

He grabbed a flashlight that stood beside him to actually be able to see where the son of a bitch was hiding.

And there he was, little teenage bastard shouldn't have come here, he did this to himself. Now he was going to die, and Michael was going to watch with absolute bliss.

He darted towards the thin figure tackling him to the ground, the frail figure pushed him and ran into the room across the hall, with the brass door widely open and the teenage boy standing still in plain sight, he charged with all his speed and all his might. The moment he charged, with one flick of the boy's hand the brass metal door slammed shut, stopping Michael dead in his tracks and knocking him out cold.


	2. chamomile tea

_**Heyyyy. So I realized the last chapter I wrote didn't have much comedy in it, so I decided this chapter would have allot! Enjoy kittens. **_

Michael lay sprawled on the floor, slightly still unconscious but slowly coming back to life by the minute. He moaned and groaned while rubbing his forehead and trying to open his eyes.

He couldn't feel his face and his neck.

He tried to wrap his brain around how he got here and how that four foot scrawny boy could slam a brass door so quickly, considering the fact the boy didn't lay a single finger on the door!

Michael lay in front of the fireplace as he came to his feet, than stumbled back to his knees from getting lightheaded.

"_but cant we just forget about this whole situation, and I'll leave?" _

I heard the voice of a man who seemed to be crying as he spoke by the way he talked. Though I didn't know who the man was or why he was in my house I assumed he was probably caught and begging for his life.

"_Hmmmm… let me think about this..." _

I heard the voice of a female, who I now assume had caught the man. Her voice was light, but in a sexy sadistic way of some sort.

"_**No.**_"

I heard about five gunshots before jumping to my feet to see the hooded "boy" that knocked me out earlier.

It was a girl, telling by the size of her hips and her breasts.

She looked over to me, smiled, and stroked my cheek as she passed by me. That was when I realized I wasn't wearing my mask. Her face was milk white and her eyes a deep chocolate brown, her short black hair was tied in pigtails while her lips were painted a deep black.

"_I see you're finally up. How about some tea? Chamomile or earl grey?" _

I looked at her and then the man on the floor she ruthlessly murdered.

_Who the fuck is this girl?! _

"_I guess I'll just make both and which ever you don't like I'll drink" _

She walked into the kitchen and I stood where I was in disbelief for a good five minutes before she came back into the living room with the two cups of tea.

She layed both cups in front of me and walked back to the kitchen to get a tray.

While she did so I saw my mask beside the couch and put it back on, finally feeling like my face wasn't naked anymore.

"_My name is Samara, what is yours?" _

Michael looked at her and tilted his head, there was an absolute silence for minute before she decided to give up.

She sat down next to him and laid both cups of tea before him, then taking the one on the left after he chose the one on the right.

He looked into the cup to see a red colored tea and took a sip, then placing the cup back down onto the floor he slowly reached for the butcher knife that laid before the fireplace. He lunged at her with the knife causing her to fall back and scream as her unzipped hoodie slid off her shoulders and onto the floor

She laid there with her eyes closed tightly, waiting for him to slice her throat open.

She waited five seconds, then ten, then twenty. Then she opened her eyes to see a rodent pinned to the wall behind her by the butcher knife she thought Michael would kill her with.

She looked into his eyes as he looked into hers, he then noticed the cuts and burns that went down her arms as she quickly put on her hoodie once more, already hating herself for what he saw.

He tilted his head once more and slowly and lightly rested his hand on top of hers as he quietly uttered to her.

"_Michael"_


	3. the rock that peirced my soul

**Why hello my darlings. Things are beginning to get good aren't they? Aww aren't I a cocky prick sometimes... Just saying, when reading this chapter, go onto YouTube and listen to the song **_**flume by Bon Iver. **_**It goes SO well with this adorable and fluffy, yet sad and hopeless chapter. Anyway enjoy!**

Samara sat on the wooden floor surrounded by darkness, except for the tiny flashlight she held in her hand that made it possible for her to still read her book.

It was once again night time, and Michael was setting up the fire for the night.

He looked over to see a shivering samara holding the tiny flashlight to read her book. Her hair was still sopping wet from the shower she just took, and she curled herself in what appeared to be a burrito of blankets.

It had been a long day of negotiating, and Michael was too tired to kick her out, yet didn't feel the need to kill her. Or didn't _want_ the need to kill her.

It was decided she would stay until she finished what she needed to finish –which she said would take a few days.

He started up the fire as she looked up at him and smiled. They had talked all day, yet there was so much he wondered about her.

_Why she was here _

_Where she was from _

_What she wanted out of staying here _

He felt a tingle down his spine. This was probably the first female that came in contact with him that he hadn't killed. He felt weightless, as if his belly had dropped ten feet instantly.

_Why the fuck was he acting this way? _

_AND WHY HASN'T HE KILLED HER YET! _

She looked back down to her book leaving an awkward silence in the room, which was until a rock came flying through the window. Shattering the glass and causing Samara to shriek in terror.

Michael took the rock, about to run and catch the bastard that threw it and tear him to shreds. That was before Samara stopped him; noticing the note attached to the rock, she untied it and read the words of hate that filled the crimpled piece of paper.

It made her wonder why people hated Michael so much. She knew he's a murderer, but every town has at least ten murderers, and it's not like they get rocks thrown at their windows.

There was something Michael wasn't telling her, and she didn't know why.

she tried to calm him down, as he tried to snatch the note from my fingers. Then pushing me to the floor he stormed off and went upstairs.

Ishe read the note over and over and over again. Every word making me more anxious by the minute.

That was when she felt a tear slide down her cheek, every word breaking her soul the same way it did ten years ago. Over and over like a broken record, the madness wouldn't stop.

_Witch _

_Devil child _

_Freak _

_A little girl of only nine, strapped to a chair in a blank white room. Question after question, day after day, no visits, no phone calls, no love. _

She dropped her head as the tears poured down, knowing the exact feeling Michael had been feeling all of his life –_unwanted._

She ran up the stairs slowly opening the door to Michael's old room suspecting he would be there, and to her surprise he wasn't.

She began to walk out of the room until she heard the closet door creek. As quiet as mice, she slowly stepped toward the closet door; slightly tilting it open to find a still as stone Michael crouching in the darkness. A picture in his hand.

He barely even turned to see if she was there, though he already knew that she was in the first place.

She reached over slowly and rested her hand on his, the same way he had rested his hand on hers the day before, he looked over to see her pale face right before him.

She looked at the picture noticing it was a young boy holding a baby girl, she was beautiful, she had the boys grey eyes and his dirty blonde hair.

"She's beautiful. Is she a relative of yours?"

He looked over at her in silence as she sat down beside him, nodding yes to her question. Then giggling she looked him in the eyes.

"You were cute as a little boy"

He picked up his head and looked at her in disbelief, no one had ever, not even his own relatives said anything like that before! He was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling he couldn't describe, it started in his lower abdomen, then went up to his throat, followed by it then going from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes.

_What the hell was going on with him?! _

He tried to say thank you, but the words happened to be stuck in his throat, unable to break free as he intended. The words barely came out as a mere stutter.

"Tha" he tried once more but failed again.

She understood what he was trying to say, she could barely even speak herself. She placed her hand on his cheek, slowly removing his mask ever so gently, that he enjoyed every second of it.

A mask less Michael sat before her, his eyes a beautiful grayish blue. He felt himself drifting off, not even caring his true self was exposed.

As for Samara, her cheeks still red and swollen from her tears, she wrapped her arms around his neck; ready to embrace him with a compassionate hug. Then drifting away from reality she let her heart take over for once, instead of her mind.

They leaned closer and closer until their lips met ever so gently. He caressed her arms and lightly rubbed her scars, comforting her as she rubbed his back in return. They cuddled one another as their lips healed their hurt, the science book forgotten and shuffled across the floor.


	4. payback and passion

_**Greetings good comrades! I see things are beginning to sizzle between Michael and samara! One thing I also noticed is that there hasn't been much homicide as I intended in the first few chapters. Awwww **____** so in this chapter there will be plenty of gore, hatred, smut, murder, and hellfire to make up for the rest of the chapters. Yaaaaaaayyyy **____** enjoy dipshits! Love u guys and keep the comments coming please! **_

2:48 AM

Samara gripped the bloody ax in her hand.

Michael had still been sleeping, and she knew he wouldn't let her leave the house if he was awake.

She understood he cared about her and didn't want her to get hurt, but at the same time she had business of her own to finish.

She walked over toward Michael, kissed him on the cheek, and left to finish what she should've finished years ago. It was her turn to get the revenge she knew she deserved, and though she knew it was risky business, she needed to kill Charles walker or die trying.

As she walked out onto the front yard and onto the sidewalk she pulled out the old plastic raggedy Ann mask she had known so well as a child.

"_Hello old friend" _

It took her a good hour to walk from her and Michaels, I mean –Michaels house, to the address of the walker residence. She looked down at the printout of his address making sure it was his house and not someone else's.

She stepped onto the porch pick locking the door and slightly opening it just enough to notice Doctor Walker sound asleep on his couch.

Closing the door gently, she tip toed around to make sure no one else was home, then realizing she was safe to make her move. She injected him with anesthetic, making sure he was knocked out good enough to drag him into the bathroom where she turned on the bathwater.

Then finding a beat up radio by the couch, she plugged it into the bathroom wall.

Doctor Walker was slightly still awake, not yet receiving the full treatment of the anesthetic, but this is what samara wants. She wants him to feel the pain he made her feel all of her childhood.

She threw his body into the bathwater, causing the cold water to splash all over her white tank top, making her unprotected nipples to harden and show very clearly.

Then holding the beat up radio above the mans face, she looked into the mans eyes as he began pleading for his life in a barely audible mumble. She looked at him with soulless eyes, remembering every shocking she received, every beaten she had taken, and every tear she had cried in that asylum.

She opened her lips, and repeated something he had told her many times before as she dropped the radio into the water, causing the mans body to shake uncontrollably as he foamed from the mouth.

"_May God have mercy on your soul." _

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00 **

_**Michaels POV: **_

I woke up to the sound of police sirens, realizing Samara was nowhere to be found.

I searched the hallway, the kitchen, the livingroom, the bathroom and still nothing.

_She left me. _

_That little bitch left me. _

I grabbed my butcher knife from the kitchen counter and slipped on my mask, feeling as if a hole had been punched through my heart.

_I thought- I thought she actually cared. _

_But she didn't. And now she was going to pay for it. _

I felt a moment of rage take over me, filling me with every intention to slit her throat and watch her die slowly. I screamed out in pain and flung my butcher knife across the room, pinning it straight into the wall.

I took her stupid science book and threw it into the fireplace watching it burn, until she walked through the door.

The minute she shut the door I grabbed my butcher knife from the wall and lunged at her with everything I had, missing her face by a single millimeter.

She dodged the knife and rolled onto the floor, raising her blood stained ax for protection against my wrath.

Then standing up she attempted the slice off my head with one single swing, causing me to tackle her to the ground as we each fought for the title as superior.

I wrapped my hands around her neck as she began to gasp for air, a feeling of victory overflowing me.

Until she kneed me in a certain "sensitive area" causing me to fall back onto the floor in pain.

It took only a millisecond for both of us to grab our weapons as I pinned her to the wall, her ax resting on my neck and my knife ready to slit her throat.

"_DO IT!" _

She screamed at me, waiting for me to kill her that instant.

"_DO IT GODDAMMIT!" _

I watched as a tear slid down her cheek, her warm brown eyes piercing my soul. She was soaking wet, and appeared to be freezing cold, her white tank top exposing her breasts and hardened nipples, her jean short shorts stained with blood.

I looked down onto the floor to see a raggedy Ann mask that appeared to be hers, and the address of a doctor who had once worked in an asylum.

I stroked her cheek, as she looked me in the eye, her cries simmering down to a mere hiccup.

"_I didn't want you to worry about me." _

I pressed up against her and leaned my head on her shoulder, my erection pressing into her thigh.

She flung the ax across the room and wrapped her arms around my neck as I threw the knife across the floor and picked her up as she jumped onto my hips.

I laid her down on the floor beside the fireplace, my heart racing a mile a minute as I stroked her black hair while on top of her; my warmth radiating onto her.

She slipped off my mask and looked into my eyes while her hands roamed through my long blonde hair. Our lips pressed together as my tongue splurged through her mouth, her sweet lips mesmerizing me as I began to take off her shirt.

She moaned when my hands slid up her chest, delicately rubbing each nipple as they went from hard to soft. I kissed, licked, and sucked every inch of her chest before she began to undress me, pulling off my shirt and throwing it across the room.

She laid down looking up at me as a began to remove her shorts, pulling them down to her ankles where she kicked them off to the side, leaving only one piece of clothing left before there was nothing left to keep her body away from mine.

She lunged on top of me revealing her sexy controlling side as she unbuckled my jeans and slid them off of me; sitting on top of me as she pressed her lips against mine once more.

With my hands resting on her hips, I slid my hands down her lace underwear, causing her to flinch at first, but then lay back down.

I slid my finger into her warm core, causing her to gasp and moan as she squirmed on the floor. I started with a slow steady pace, then gaining speed by the minute. Every moan coming from her mouth making my erection even tighter.

"_Michael please, no more, just fuck me" _

He could hear the anticipation in her voice, she wanted him _now. _And he couldn't bear the feeling within him any longer. He slid himself into her, causing her to scream out in not only pain –but pleasure. He tilted his head back at the indescribable feeling, and slowly pulsed in and out of her, gaining speed by the second.

They rocked in a rhythm of their own until they both reached their climax, cuddling on the floor beside the fireplace.

She looked into his eyes as he looked into hers, their hands welded together and now their souls too.

She rested her head on his chest, feeling every thud of the heart beat her lover possessed.

"_I love you Michael" _

He looked back at her and smiled; felling the happiest he's ever felt before.

"_I love you too Samara"_


	5. catch me if you can

_**Heyyy guys! Wasn't last chapter's events so smutiful and evil, awww electrocution. How precious. Anyway –because of last chapter I wanna make this one all fluffy and adorable. Just saying, this chapter is gonna be really emotional and deal with some topics that are painful, if any of you guys ever feel the need to talk about anything you can always pm me. Enjoy! **_

_**Samara's POV: **_

I stood in front of the mirror, my tummy grumbling demanding I feed it.

I lifted up my shirt to reveal the shame I possessed, the scars covering both my upper and lower abdomen. And the best part, my fat is still there. Though I'm a badass active killing machine and I never eat at all. My shame is still there.

My hair was puffy and frizzy, which made me look like a clown considering that my hair was short instead of long. I looked down, the broken plastic tiara in my hand bringing back so many awful memories.

I always wondered why I was the ugly stepsister, the fat, stupid one that would never shut up, or as my stepmother called it "the one in need of Jenny Craig"

I began to shake as I rocked back and forth, envy and pain taking over me knowing my stepsister was a perfect model with a loving husband and two great kids.

"_Christy! It's my dress give it back!" _

_The little girl screamed as tears poured down her face. _

_Cinderella was her favorite princess, all she had wanted was to feel like a princess, because she _

_Had never felt that way before. Unlike pageant girl Christy, who always had the spotlight._

_She pounded on the door as her stepmother came up the stairs, grabbing the girl's tiny wrists as she pinned her to the wall. _

"_Now Samara, we don't wanna go back to the hospital right?" _

_The young girl looked into the woman's soulless eyes as her sobs continued to die down; turning into a barely audible hiccup _

"_But it's my dress; my daddy gave me my dress" _

_The woman's face curled into a scowl as her face got closer to her step daughter's _

"_But it's not your dress anymore, because you can't fit into the dress. It's Christy's dress now because it fits her and SHE actually looks pretty in it" _

_The woman grabbed the plastic tiara from the small girl's head and knocked on Christy's door, the girl opened the door twirling in the new dress she had just received as her mother fitted the plastic tiara onto her true daughter's head. _

_Samara watched as the woman tended to Christy's every need, a tear streaming down her face as she glared at the girl that twirled in HER dress through narrowed eyes. A burning hatred scorching her soul. _

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 0000

Michael looked at each and every box

Making the women that passed by a bit uncomfortable considering he was a six foot tall man wearing a creepy mask while roaming the tampon isle.

He remembered Samara mentioning the word pearl for the brand, so he grabbed the slender fit box of "_Tampax Pearl" _tampons. Slender fit because well –he knew by "_experience" _that Samara was pretty tiny "_down there"_

Then passing by the pain killers he remembered her requests of Nutella, Oreo's, and some Midol to keep her asleep during the night.

Grabbing all three items along with the tampons he laid the objects in front of the cashier, who looked at him as if he were mutant for a good two minutes, then beginning to scan each item, leaving an awkward silence between them as the stores "elevator music" played in the background.

Once the items were scanned he paid the cashier and walked back to the house with the two plastic bags in his hand. It was going to be a long night.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000

_**Michael's POV: **_

I walked into the door with the plastic bags in my hand, looking around to see if samara was still awake.

Then going up the stairs I looked around to see she was nowhere to be found _again. _

_What the hell am I going to do with this girl? _

Walking back down the stairs I darted back up into the hallway to hear commotion coming from the towel closet. Opening the door I saw a body huddled on the floor, a blanket covering them entirely; masking their identity.

I heard slightly audible crying as I knelt down to see a broken plastic tiara thrown across the room, and locket laying in the very back of the empty closet.

Silent and sneakily I grabbed the locket and opened it to find a picture of a young girl who appeared to be playing in the snow.

Her face was a pale white and her hair deep black curls, she appeared to be a bit heavier but seemed to be happy in her own skin.

The being in the blanket sat up, the blanket still covering their face, the taking the blanket off they huddled into a ball without saying a single word.

It was Samara.

She raised her head to look at Michael, revealing the scratches all over her face. I looked into her eyes and her swollen red cheeks as she sniffled and looked above her head.

Right above her, was a rope wrapped around the pole used to hang jackets, and right next to her, a stool to help her reach.

I looked at her and then the rope as tears began to silently slide down my cheeks. As she reached to touch my hand, I surprised her and grasped her in my arms, embracing her as I began to cry.

It all made sense now, the scars, the meal skipping, the way she'd never let herself get too attached. It was because she wasn't planning to stay much longer.

I rocked her in my arms, my little porcelain doll clinging to me in pain as she screamed out demanding I let her leave for good.

Then stopping while touching my cheek, she held back her sobs as she asked me a question that I would never forget again.

"_How can you love me, when I don't even love me?" _

I felt something coming up, god I couldn't even think straight. Was it lunch? Butterflies? What the fuck was it?

"_I love you because you didn't leave me. _

_You stayed by my side this entire time. Voluntarily. _

_Even when I tried to kill you. you didn't wanna leave me." _

And I now knew what was coming up. Word vomit.

"Ever_ since I met you, I never knew why I felt this way. The way you would always light up when talking about space, or the way you talk and giggle in your sleep. _

_It's just- _

_And your hair is just perfect and god your eyes, even though I never told you because I didn't wanna sound creepy and make things awkward between us. _

_When you're angry it's so sexy and adorable, and your lips –I would kiss them all day if you let me. _

_Or the way you always snort when you laugh, I know you hate it, but I LOVE it. I love everything about you Samara, your body, your personality, the way you could kill me easily if you wanted to._

_I wish you could see how beautiful you are through my eyes, because if you did, you would finally realize that to me you're the most amazing girl in the universe. _

Samara stared at him in utter shock. The man who was pretty much speechless for fifteen years had said a mouthful, _about her. _

She was speechless, trying to think of words to say, and not being able to say them at all, then giving the most biggest _genuine_ smile she propable has ever done, she tackled him to the ground giving embracing him as if her life depended on it.

She couldn't stop giggling and she didn't know why, it was as if she literally couldn't stop, the feeling in her tummy warning her of an outburst of stupid girly giggles and "omg really?!"'s

Her toes curled as she slid his mask off of his face, not yet kissing him but caressing his cheeks with her soft gently hands.

Then picking up the mask, she put it on herself causing a sudden erection of mine.

Seeing her in _my _mask turned me the fuck on. It was that sense of her being mine, _I'm _her man. And nothing is going to ever change that.

Then getting up I pecked her on the cheek as she began to giggle while running down the stairs saying

"_If you want your mask back you have to come and get it! Winner gets to dominate tonight's fun" _

I smiled and shaked my head as I ran down the stairs after her, I was right after all, it was going to be a long night indeed.


	6. so how about pizza for dinner?

_**Hey Dudes! Sorry I haven't really written anything for a bit, I don't know about you guys, but I think this story needs a bit more humor, I haven't really had any funny Ideas for the story so if you have any ideas or suggestions please please please comment! Enjoy! **_

_**Michael's POV: **_

I watched as samara took charge, the ax gripped in her hands and ready to strike.

There was a burglary in the house and instead of me getting the job done, she really wanted her turn to finally get that blood high she had so desperately been longing for.

I stood behind her just in case she needed any help, which she thought was ridiculous saying "I never needed any help and I never will need any help"

She raised her ax as the teenage girl sat before her; unaware of the consequences she would very soon receive for her wrong doings

The young girl was sitting on the floor holding the bag of collected valuable items her and her partner had just stole from the house. Her partner was grabbing all of the metal utensils from the kitchen cabinets; smiling as he looked down at them and grabbed the lighter from his pocket, while she at the precious jewelry in the bag that she now considered her own.

Then with one single swing the girl's head was sliced off barely before she could even scream. The blood poured everywhere as samara indulged in the senses around her; the sweet aroma of blood taking over her as she ran after the girls partner.

Michael however watched in what seemed to be a sense of horror, but also quite turned on at the same time. He had never seen a girl as bloodthirsty as her, the way she licked the blood from her fingers as if it were her remade. It was scary, yet sexy at the same time.

I then turned over to see the young female's partner. He was dragging himself across the floor; his legs now decapitated and no longer any use to him as they poured liters of blood onto the wooden floor. Samara stood behind him with her ax held high, watching him cry and gurgle as he began to choke on his own blood. She laughed and giggled as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes; the blood high finally wearing in.

"Lap noan tros ta ge, O q manin de Satan tol-lonsh"

(Save in the mind of Satan the all powerful)

The ax went down twice, slaughtering and decapitating both of his arms. Then for the last swing of the night, she raised her ax as if it were a golfing club, and sliced the man's head clean off; giving it enough force to go flying out of the living room window.

I stared at her frozen stiff, astonished by the actions she had just possessed.

She looked over at me and smiled saying

"So I think we should have pizza for dinner tonight, how about you?"

My little porcelain doll was absolutely definitely not harmless, but incredibly and extremely lethal. His little porcelain ax swinging doll, was loved even more now for the madness that dictated her soul. The same madness Michael always had felt, and still feels to this very day.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 

_**Hey guys, about that bit up there where samara speaks in satanic language, I just wanna say I AM DEFINETLY NOT INTENDING TO OFFEND ANYONE! Considering the fact that I think all pagans, Satanists, and atheists are pretty fucking awesome! Please please please remember to comment guys!**_


	7. may i have this dance?

_**Hey guys! I read some of the comments you left on my story, and I'm pretty happy to hear it was considered funny to some readers :) I was aiming for that. Although I am a bit unhappy to hear my OC character wouldn't make a good match with Michael, considering his personality, I was wondering if you guys could give me some suggestions to make samara a bit more likely for Michaels character, and also any comments, questions, or suggestions about the story please! **_

_**Samara's POV: **_

I poured the cake batter into the small circular pan; trying to hold back tears and act as if nothing had just happened.

What was wrong with me? I knew not to cross such a line with Michael, but I said it anyway. And I paid the price for that.

I gripped the cloth onto the giant gash in my upper abdomen, pretty much wishing to bleed out to death. My dress was now bloody and ugly.

"so much for our first dance" I mumbled while trying to swipe the flour from my now ruined dress.

The way he looked at me. It's as if it wasn't even him. He would've killed me, I swear to god he would've. But there was something holding him back.

He probably didn't have a place to hide my body once he killed me.

There were so many questions I had.

_Would he kill me? _

_Was he coming home tonight? _

_Would he kick me out? _

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00

_**Michaels POV: **_

_I've never hurt samara like this before. _

_But the way she acted; she deserved it. _

_I know she really wanted for us to have our first dance tonight at my sister Laurie's wedding, but she didn't understand why I didn't feel comfortable going._

_The way she pushed me around and insulted me, reminded me of cat. _

_Of course samara was 100x better than cat, I mean sure –sex with Catharine Voorhees was great, but that was the only reason I kept cat around. _

_Even though she was the daughter of Jason Voorhees, I had to kill the bitch. She was driving me fucking insane! _

_The bitch tried to kill me a numerous amount of times; poisoning me, suffocating me, hitting me with a car –which actually did injure me. Ect. _

_Jason never really cared because she wasn't a good daughter to him, considering she never even helped him out when he was in need of it. _

Just thinking about my past relationship with cat made me sick to my stomach.

I hated myself right now, the way she would always look at me was the way Samara looked at me tonight.

_But why the fuck do I feel so guilty? _

I chuckled madly as I slid to the sewer floor, it was love, but a sick twisted love. One moment I literally wanted to decapitate her and eat her flesh –the next I wanted to make love to her so gently and passionately.

The situation confused me to the point of slamming my fists against cement –but the thing is, _I actually_ _enjoyed every minute of it. _

_The way she challenged me –or tried challenging me; I was always better than her from the start. But it was fun to let her think the opposite of that and have her find out she was wrong; it almost felt as good as crushing children's dreams :) _

I decided it wasn't best for me to go home, knowing that being the stupid bitch she usually is she was probably crying or trying to kill herself as usual.

"_why don't you just go cut yourself some more Samara" _

I stopped myself dead in my tracks,

_How could you dare say something so hurtful? _

_The woman you say you love, _

_Sharing her blanket to keep you warm, _

_Making you food to keep your tummy full, _

_Understanding and tending to your every tear, _

_NEVER leaving your very side. _

_Shame on you. _

_I remembered my mother always working day and night, then coming home to care for us kids; the man that supposedly loved her beating her senselessly. _

_I remembered holding her tight as she cried on my shoulder every day, wondering what she did wrong. He was a monster, but she loved him anyway. And he took advantage of that. _

I ran down the sewer on my way home. Disgusted with the man I've become.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 000

_**Samara's POV: **_

I wrapped a bandage around my upper abdomen; covering the large gash as I slipped on sexy lingerie under my dress.

"_I hope Michael likes this. I hate seeing him angry or sad"_

I brushed my hair realizing it was already a bit past my shoulders though I was only here for a month.

That was when Michael barged through the door with the butcher knife still in his hand; approaching me with speed as I screamed.

"_I'm really really sorry babe, please don't hurt me again. I made your favorite cake and the macaroni and cheese you love; I even put on lingerie for you for tonight. You can do anything and everything you want to me and you don't eve- _

He rested his index finger on top of my lips; apparently telling me to shush as he pinned the knife to the wall and picked me up while squeezing the air out of my lungs.

He rested his head on my shoulder as he held me up in his arms

"_I am so sorry Samara" _

I stuttered in confusion, wondering what made him change his mind. But at the same time smiling due to the fact he changed his name in the first place.

He took a few steps backward and did a slight bow; holding out his hand for me to take it.

"_Do you still love me enough to dance?" _

I smiled so big my face began to hurt, and then taking his hand he led me to the middle of the kitchen floor.

He wrapped his hands around my waist as I wrapped mine around his neck; we swayed back and forth then side to side. Then twirling me I rested my head on his shoulder, dancing till my eyelids could hold no more.


	8. father of the bride

_**Hello fellow Comrades! I notice my story is getting plenty of views, and I also notice that not many people understand my character Samara. You see- samara isn't my OC, If you notice in the first chapter It mentions Samara's last name to be Morgan –as in Samara Morgan from the ring! In my story Samara is all grown up of course, but I'm planning to explain her history a bit more in this chapter, the movies say her father is unknown, but is positively a demon of some sort, so of course I'm gonna include that in this chapter, awww poor Michael –having to face such an amazing father. Well anyway, Enjoy! **_

_**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00000 **_

_**Samara's POV: **_

i carried the groceries up the steps and walked up to the door. It was still pouring outside and my hair and clothes were now drenched. It took a while for me get through the door with all those damn groceries.

Michael said he'd wanted to say home while I went food shopping, so I was a bit surprised when I opened the door to see all of the lights off and everything disheveled as if we were robbed.

I roamed through the house and into the kitchen to find shattered glass on the floor the hard way; by stepping on it. I fell to my knees as I began to bleed, then getting back up I turned on the sink to wash the blood from my hands and feet; that was when I realized something was clogging the drain.

I reached down into the black hole to find a piece of metal caught in the bottom of the drain, then grabbing it I pulled my tiny hand out of the sink to find out the piece of metal was actually a piece of jewelry.

It was a ring. It was a gold ring with a small garnet stone in the center and on the inner circle of the ring was carved the word _unless. _I felt as if I had seen the stone before, that was when I realized it was the same gemstone from that necklace that teenage couple tried to steal many nights ago; the necklace that was once Michael's mother's.

I looked around and went up the stairs trying to find Michael when I saw him scavenging the coat closet as if he were looking for something

"_Michael? What's wrong?" _

He looked over to see me holding the ring in my hand, then walked over and knelt down on one knee.

"_I'm sorry the proposal had to be like this." _

He apologized as I stood there in shock, one hand over my mouth and the other held out for Michael to put the ring on.

"_YES YES YES!" _

"_I LOVE YOU! I WANNA BE YOUR WIFE MORE THAN ANYTHING!" _

He picked me up and twirled me around in excitement, as I rested my hands on his cheeks and kissed him.

"_we have to tell father! He'll be so excited! Although you'll have to ask for his permission to marry me first, he's very old fashioned" _

He put me down gently tilting his head to the side in confusion as I took his hand and let him to our bedroom.

I opened my underwear drawer and scavenged through it to find the chalk and black candles I hid under the clothing as a still very confused Michael watched.

Then using the nightstand as an alter, I took the white chalk and drew a baphomet on the wall, and lit the black candles around it and the red candle in the middle.

I ran to the bathroom and grabbed the incense, lighting it and bringing it back to the altar. Then asking Michael to retrieve his butcher knife, the stone sharpener and the silver chalice in the kitchen, I clipped a metal cord from one of my broken bras and placed it next to the incense.

I stripped down to bare skin and tucked my clothes near the mattress just in time for Michael to walk in with the knife, stone and chalice.

He looked confused still, but a sudden passionate hunger filled his eyes as he stripped down to nudity as well.

I walked toward him and rested my hand on his cheek as I stared into his crystal blue eyes, then taking his hand we walked to the alter.

"_I'll start to demonstrate what needs to be said, once I finish it's your turn. Don't be nervous and don't be shy. Relax and let the passion take over your senses." _

I took the chalice in my hand as I handed Michael his butcher knife.

"_I pledge this chalice, as I pledge my soul, ever to your service. As from this cup, my love for you will pour forth so that our lives together will be nourished. Accept it, my beloved, and with it all that is mine also becomes yours. Even if our paths should later diverge, yet I will always be your true friend, to love you and lend you aid and protection. By seed and root, by bud and stem, by leaf and flower and fruit, by life and love, in the name of Babalon, I, Samara, take you, Michael, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit."_

I smiled at him as he smiled at me

"_now dip the knife into the chalice" _

He did as I instructed as I motioned it was his turn to talk. He was very shy and nervous, but he decided to give it a try. He lifted his mask from his face as he rested his hand on my cheek; staring into my warm brown eyes as if he were piercing my soul.

"_I pledge my blade, as I pledge my soul, ever to your service. Like this blade my love for you will be strong and enduring, so that our lives together will always be protected. Accept it, my beloved, and with it all that is mine becomes yours. Even if our paths should later diverge, yet I will always be your true friend, to love you and lend you aid and protection. By seed and root, by bud and stem, by leaf and flower and fruit, by life and love, in the name of Satan, I, Michael, take you, Samara, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit"_

The candle lights ignited as if they were associated with gasoline; filling the room with beautiful bright light as he took the ring that lay on the altar and placed it on my finger. The candle lights blew out all at once, signaling father's permission for Michael to be my husband and for I to be his wife.

Our lips locked and our hands welded together, I jumped onto him and he laid me on the mattress; his hands hugging my hips as he rolled on top of me.

I've never felt so happy before, I was Michael's and Michael was mine. What more could a girl ask for?

**Hey guys :) just saying I used a few quotations from a spell site on Satanism, the website is **** . **** I put this on here to cite my sources and to also give u guys the website incase u wanted to do any research or have a satanic wedding of your own.**


End file.
